


Knight in Shining Armor

by thisgirlnani



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2019-05-17 12:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14832593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisgirlnani/pseuds/thisgirlnani
Summary: Jon Snow's side gig as a Knight-For-Hire is exposed, and his roommate Robb Stark gets a few hundred laughs out of it. But then, Robb asks Jon to work his little brother's 8th birthday party, which Jon reluctantly agrees to.After all, he's done the job a dozen times, and there's only ever just a bunch of middle-aged parents and their young kids to see Jon dressed up as a knight. Well, it seems Robb forgot to mention he has a ridiculously pretty sister, and now he's stuck looking like a medieval nerd.





	Knight in Shining Armor

When his best mate (and flat mate), Robb, first heard about his side job as a Knight-For-Hire, the jokes had been non-stop. Robb had changed Jon’s contact name in his phone to ‘Knight in Shining Armor’, stuffed Jon’s part of the refrigerator  with frozen medieval-style meat pies, and made a point of constantly referring to Jon’s car as his ‘noble steed’. Let it be said, Robb Stark always knew how to go the extra mile for a cheesy joke at his friend’s expense.

 So when Robb had asked Jon if he’d be willing to work his youngest brother’s 8th birthday party, he half-expected to pull up to his house up North and see dozens of college students as a part of some elaborate prank that Robb had master-minded, intent on humiliating him.

 However, as Jon’s GPS chimed that ‘ _the destination was on the right’_ , tell-tale silver and blue balloons lined an expansive driveway that led to an immaculately kept manor with high arches and tall pillars. There was a large, castle bounce-house, laid out on the front lawn where a dozen or so kids were already taking advantage of the toy, shrieking with joy.

 As Jon parked, the first thought he had was relief that this all meant that Robb _was_ in fact telling the truth (one could never be too sure). And second, was _fuck, he had no idea that the Starks were that loaded._

Robb had offhandedly mentioned that his parents were’ well-to-do’, but it was never boastful. If anything, he had downplayed it. ‘Well-to-do’ was a spacious home in the suburbs, this was a mansion in an exclusive, gated community that Jon couldn’t stop gaping at.

 “Oi! Lancelot!”

 Jon got out of the car, with a frown. “Hilarious, mate. Almost as hilarious as the 20 other nicknames you thought up.” He pulled at the chainmail on his neck, feeling itchy and uncomfortable. Jon grimaced at how _normal_ Robb’s attire was. He never felt self-conscious at previous gigs, but it was different now, that somebody he knew was present. 

The curly redhead grinned broadly, clapping Jon on the back with a steady hand. “You know, somehow this whole get-up is even better than I imagined. The armor-chainmail is a combo that needs to come back. You’re going to be a fashion icon, after mum posts the birthday photos on her Facebook.”

 “Ha. Ha” Jon deadpanned. “If you tag me in those photos, I’ll kill you.”

 “With your plastic sword?” Robb chortled. “Go for it, dude.” He gestured for Jon to follow him. “C’mon, time to greet the birthday boy.”

 Robb jogged over to the giant bounce-castle and shouted into the din. “Rickon! There’s somebody special to see you!”

 A chubby kid with hair just as curly and red as Robb’s came bounding out of the castle, beaming widely. When he caught sight of Jon, he stopped in his tracks, eyes widening in awe and his little jaw went slack. “ _Whoa_.”

 Jon couldn’t help but stand up a little straighter. The previous embarrassment he’d felt, had almost disappeared entirely. Robb had told him that Rickon was currently going through a medieval-fantasy phase and had even dressed up in a homemade suit of armor made of tinfoil for Halloween and talked nonstop about King Arthur and Lancelot.

 He knelt down on one knee, to be eye-level with Rickon and ruffled his hair, affectionately. Rickon could only gawk back.

 “Rickon, this is my friend I was talking to you about.” Robb looked equally pleased at his brother’s reaction. “Sir Jon. He’s the strongest knight from—where are you from again, Sir Jon?”

 “Dragonstone.” Jon knew Robb would find some new jokes, with that piece of information.

 “Of course. I should have remembered.” Robb coughed discretely, hiding his laugh. “Anyways-“

 “Do they have dragons at Dragonstone?” Rickon cut in, impatiently. His eyebrow rose. “You didn’t bring one, did you? I don’t think my mommy would be happy. She gets irritation about that stuff.” He looked up at Robb, proudly. “Irritation. It’s a new word Sansa taught me.”

 Jon smiled at Rickon’s cute mistake and how eager the young boy was. “Ah, we do have dragons. But, don’t worry, I didn’t bring one. They’re not so nice, at birthday parties. They like to eat all the food, the cake, the chips, and drinks, _everything_.”

 “That’s like Robb.” Rickon nodded, sagely. “Mommy says he eats too much, whenever he comes back from the college.”

 “ _Alright_. That’s enough out of you, smalls.” Robb patted Rickon. “Go get your friends, and tell them to bring their swords. Sir Jon wants to see who the strongest knight is out of all your friends.”

 Rickon bounced up and down, on his heels, excitedly and as he ran away he shrieked, “Time for Fight-the-Knight!”

 Jon got up with an exasperated sigh, “Fight-the-Knight, huh?”

The redhead looked sheepish. “Got them all foam swords. Rickon insisted there should be at least one battle. Look on the bright side, you won’t need to go to the gym on Monday.”

 Jon snorted. “You’re paying my medical bills, if anything happens to me, Stark.”

“Anything for my knight in shining armor.”

* * *

 

 Sansa idly swished around her wine glass, as she watched the birthday chaos unfolding on her family’s front lawn, safely behind the living room window. She loved being home, and she tried to visit as often as possible. A tiny ( _okay, actually a large_ ) part of her regretted choosing King’s Landing University instead of her father’s alma mater up North. After a particularly rough freshman year, she’d somewhat adjusted to the bustle of city life, but she still felt like a fish out of water, and always felt like she could finally breathe when she came home.

 “Christ. It’s like an episode of Desperate Housewives come to life, outside.” Sansa turned, and there was Margaery Tyrell with her matching glass of wine, and a smirk on her pretty, heart-shaped face. The brunette was Robb’s on-and-off girlfriend, whom Sansa had quickly be-friended. They were complete opposites, but Sansa liked that Margaery encouraged her step out of her comfort zone, whether it be with fashion, love, or school.

 “What do you mean?” Sansa raised a brow.

 Margaery mock-gasped. “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen who Robb brought to the party? You know, his roommate who does the side gig as a Knight-For-Hire? The moms are _falling_ over themselves for him.”

 Sansa vaguely remembered her mother saying _something_ about Robb’s roommate helping out at the party. She hadn’t been paying close attention, as there’d been a lot of details her mother had been going on about Rickon’s party.

 “He’s a cutie, for sure.” Margaery grinned, with a wicked glint in her eye. “I bet he’d find you a very welcome change from the middle-aged women, out there. Look there he is!” The brunette jabbed a finger at the glass, pointing for Sansa to take a look.

 To say he was a ‘cutie’ was the understatement of the century. Her stomach flipped as she studied his broad shoulders and dark curls. He was dressed in a ridiculous armor costume with a sword at his hip, like a knight out of one of the fairytale books, she had loved as a little child.

 “Take a picture, darling.” Margaery drawled. “It’ll last longer.”

 Sansa flushed, “You told me to take a look. Besides, he is cute.” She admitted, grudgingly.

 “Who’s cute?” Arya appeared out of nowhere, a family-sized bag of chips in one arm, as though she was cradling a baby. “Better not be some blonde-haired bozo.” Her little sister shot her a knowing look. “We all know how that story goes.” Sansa grimaced, thinking back to her past exes, both grade-A assholes, that ranked at the top of the list for ‘Biggest Regrets’.

 “Oh no, we got ourselves a dark and handsome one, this time.” Margaery purred. “Robb’s friend that he brought to the party.”  

 “Huh, Jon Snow?” Arya let out a cackle. “Dude’s a _dork_. Which in hindsight, actually might be a good change from the jock-prick type you favor so much.”

 “Yes, Arya.” Sansa glared. “ _Please_ continue to tell _m_ e about my shitty taste in men.”

 “Gladly.” Arya sneered, back.

 “Alright, alright.” Margaery held up her hands. “Let’s not distract ourselves from the real goal here-which is to get Sansa laid by that hot knight. Arya what were you able to find out?”

 “He’s an engineering major. So, like I said, dork. Robb and him met through intramural football, apparently. A-a-and he’s single.” Arya finished, dramatically.

 Margaery beamed. “Smart, fit and available. You’re a peach, Arya.”

 Sansa’s little sister shrugged, indulging on another handful of chips. “We’ll call it even, since you swiped Robb’s Netflix password for me.”

 “Alright, Sansa.” Margaery leaned over to tug down Sansa’s dress, making the neckline dip lower. “Go get ‘em tiger. Knock his socks off with your wit _and_ your cleavage.”

 “ _Marg!_ ” She hissed, righting her dress. “What if-“

 “Don’t worry about it! Just say hi. Worst thing that happens, is he’s boring and you walk away after 3 minutes of conversation.”

 Sansa sensed that Margaery was not going to let her wriggle out of this one. Plus, she’d be lying if she said a part of her wasn’t curious about Jon Snow. But, Margaery was wrong. That wasn’t the worst thing that could happen. The worst thing that could happen would be, that he would be absolutely perfect and somehow she’d find a way to fuck it all up. She sighed deeply, and handed off her to wine to Margaery.

“ _Christ_. Wish me luck.”

 

* * *

 Jon heaved a sigh, laying back on the grass, utterly exhausted. Sweat dripped down his brow and he struggled to maintain a steady breath rate. Intramurals had nothing on a dozen hyperactive kids with their mind set on taking him down. He knew, without a doubt, that come tomorrow he’d be sore in places he didn’t even know could be sore.

 Out of nowhere, a foam sword jabbed Jon in the neck. “Time to fight again!” Rickon crowed. There was frosting at the edge of his lips, and a splash of soda on his collar.

 “Kid,” Jon wheezed, holding up his hands in surrender. “You already defeated me. You’re the strongest knight out there. Guaranteed.”

 “So? I wanna fight.” Rickon stamped his feet, and his chubby fingers tightened into fists. “Stand up, Sir Jon! Or else, I’m gonna stab you.” He declared, triumphantly.

 “Rickon Stark! Apologize!”

 Jon turned his head, to see a tall redhead, almost certainly, another Stark, coming close with her hands on her hips. He surmised quickly, this was the only sibling he hadn’t met yet, Sansa Stark.

 The little boy’s face turned as white as a sheet, too Jon’s slight amusement. “S-Sansa. I just wanted to play!” His lower lip trembled.

 “Come on,” She reprimanded. “Apologize to the nice knight. He’s already been playing with you for a few hours now. He deserves a break.” Jon couldn’t help the tiny sigh of relief that escaped him.

 Rickon let out a petulant grumble. He folded his arms together. “I’m sorry, Sir Jon. I hope you’re not mad at me.”

 Jon pulled himself up so he was resting on his forearms. He smiled kindly at the boy. “Don’t worry, kid. I’m not mad. I’m just a little jealous that you’re the strongest knight now.”

Rickon glowed. “It’s okay, we can always have a re-match!” His gaze darted to Sansa, and he added hurriedly. “Next year, when you have had al-o-o-o-t of rest.”

 “Sounds like a deal.” Jon grinned, raising his fist.

 “Okay, kiddo. Go finish your cake. Mom got your favorite, so better eat lots of it.” Rickon nodded, and scurried off, waving goodbye to Jon.

 “Gosh,” Sansa sighed, joining Jon on the grass. “He’s a sweetheart for sure, but he has so much energy. I don’t’ know how you managed it, with all those kids.” She smiled brightly, “I’m Sansa, by the way. Robb’s sister.”

 Now that Jon was seeing her up close, he was having difficulty remembering his own name. Christ’s sake, she was pretty. He had to blink twice, to make sure that the heat and fatigue hadn’t made him hallucinate some fantasy girl. His throat went dry. “Um,” he coughed. “Jon. Sir Jon, I guess, since I’m still on the clock.” Fuck that reminded him of the stupid costume he was wearing. _Of course_ he was meeting Robb’s pretty sister dressed as some medieval nerd.

  “I know,” she grinned. “You’re the talk of the party, Sir, Jon. The kids love you. And the moms.” She added, cheekily. “But, I’m sure you noticed that already.”

 He had noticed the extra attention from the older women. But, he’d wanted to chalk it up to the fact that he was the only one dressed up as a character. He hoped to god, he wouldn’t wake up tomorrow morning with dozens of ‘tagged photo’ notifications. “I have, yeah.” He admitted. “Robb’s been getting a kick out of it all.”

 Sansa laughed, “Well, I’m sure you’re used it, living with Robb and all.”

 “Unfortunately.” he grimaced. “But, um, Robb said you go to King’s Landing, down South? How’s that?” The words came out of his mouth all stilted and he mentally face-palmed. He was shit at talking with girls, and Sansa was no exception, apparently.

 She didn’t seem to notice, though. “Oh, it’s fine. My major is business, so it’s a good university in terms of the internships and resources available. But, I get homesick, like, every other week. Usually, I have to miss stuff like this.” She waved towards the lawn. “What about yourself? Medieval history major?”

 “No,” Jon reddened, itching at his neck, again. “Engineering. This is just a side job, it pays pretty well, and most of the time, I’m just standing there taking pictures with the little ones.”

 “Hey,” she shrugged. “No judgement. After all it gave Robb the excuse to bring you along, to the party.” She smiled, leaning in just a bit, to brush a bit of grass off his shoulder. _Oh shit._ Jon knew he was a dunce when it came to the opposite sex, but he could have sworn there was some kind of flirtation behind her words. He really hoped, this wasn’t the product of his overactive imagination.

 “So, erm, do you,” _Quick, Snow. Say something, clever or smooth, or-_ “You don’t happen to have a boyfriend, do you?” He croaked out. _Or that. You idiot._

 “Nope,” Sansa grinned. “Just been waiting for a knight in shining armor, so perfect timing, actually.”

 Jon was supposed to be the one doing the swooning, but he was pretty sure, the roles had swapped here. Fuck, he guessed, he had to thank Robb for this job, after all. That was  _if_ Robb didn’t kill him first, foam sword or not, he would manage one way or the other.

**Author's Note:**

> quick fluff piece, that i hope you all enjoy!!
> 
> also, side note: i was reading some jonsa fics (jesus we have some talented people on here) and i just happened to be scrolling the comments and i realized that like 99% of authors reply to their comments!!! **insert picture of me looking horrified, never knowing that was a function on ao3 lmao.** i'm ridiculously useless with technology. i'm so sorry and even more thankful to the people who continue to write comments. I'm not ignoring you guys!!! i will try my best to reply in a timely manner, i promise <3


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